Just a short one to blow away a few winter cobwebs. Many thanks as always to anyone who chooses to read and review, I hope you enjoy.
And extra thanks as always to Mel for just being amazing!
This is set anytime after the S5 Christmas episode...
Hollow. They sounded hollow. Each step he took across the hard concrete floor echoed back at him with unusual pronouncement and volume, particularly when he considered he wasn't the only one there. With Sam and Callen ahead of him, the narrow beams from their torches offering a vague location in the surrounding darkness, he was far from alone.
Abandoned for some time, the workshop's few windows, situated high on the walls near the sheet metal roof, had been blackened out with paint allowing little natural light into the space below. And simply due to the lateness of the hour the now wide open door did little to change that. Deeks, though, had little fear upon entering, with both his torch and his weapon drawn and his team by his side, this was no more than routine in their line of work. Barely noteworthy. However, as soon as he breathed in the air around him, the second that combination of smells passed in through his nose and registered in his mind, his body began to react. A strong hint of metal mixed with oil amongst the staleness, before being added to by the overpowering stench of blood.
He turned quickly, the fine hairs on his neck standing firmly to attention as he grasped onto his gun ever more tightly and shone his torch around him in wide sweeps. But even before his eyes could confirm what they would surely find there, it descended down over him like the thickest of blankets, distorting his senses and constricting his throat. That taste, that foul bitter taste of adrenaline now so clearly marked his pallet as a shiver ripped through him like the blade of a frozen knife. Faster and louder his heart began to pound, the beat unyielding in it's pace. His breath began to arrive in ever desperate gasps, and as he fought against it, as he fought to stay grounded, as he fought to stay in the present, the sounds around him twisted and changed and he knew he'd been caught once again.
Voices surrounded him, but they were no longer those of friends. The thick Russian accents were terrifyingly familiar, the orders they issued unstoppable, the outcome already decided. And then it came. The noise, that god awful noise. The high-pitched scream of a drill, which tore through every nerve in his body before exploding in his head. Grasping at his face, his torch fell to the ground but he didn't care, the pounding in his jaw, in his whole head was now his focus.
The urge to flee was overpowering and after catching glimpse of the open door any remaining hold he had on his current time and place aided his feet in moving him back out of the building. Stepping with ungainly strides out into the cool evening Deeks felt his stomach twist heavily over on top of itself and he immediately doubled over emptying the contents about his feet.
Pulling as much air into his lungs as he could muster a few seconds later, Deeks straightened trying desperately to find focus in his surroundings. The real rather than the imagined. The now rather than the then. The cars, the buildings, even the sun lowering down across the infinite sky above him, but none of it could stop the oppressive crush he felt about his body and mind. A heavy sheen of sweat now covered his body, and the heat he felt radiating out from every part of him just wasn't helping.
Quickly shrugging his jacket from his shoulders he slid it from his arms and dropped it unceremoniously on the hood of Callen's Mercedes. His gun, which he had somehow managed to keep hold of, and his badge were then added to the pile before his sweatshirt was wrenched over his head and deposited also. With all physical weight and restriction removed from his person Deeks could feel himself breath again. He could feel himself breath like a normal person, someone unburdened by horrors and experiences such as he had had to endure. The world came slowly back into sharp focus, the safety of his survival assured, and with that relief washed over him like a wave leaving the unwanted fall of tears in its wake. Too soon they reached his lips, but the light hint of salt they brought to his taste buds was one he actually found welcome.
Taking further unsteady steps around the car the heady swell of emotions halted him and with little care he dropped to the dirty ground leaning back against the rear bumper.
He hated this, he hated it so much. The indignity, the lack of control, the weakness. He hated having to travel back to the farthest reaches of his fears without ever knowing if he would properly return. He hated that after all these months it could still consume him this way. He hated that the anchor he so needed, so wanted was no longer there to hold him in place.
Kensi had been such a big part of his recovery the previous autumn. She was the support he could never have imagined, the lifeline that had kept him connected to who he truly was, and right then all he wanted was for her to be there to help guide him once again.
But her absence now prevented that from happening. Her reassignment lay between them like the deepest and widest of chasms, but he had learned, during his time with Sidorov, how to bridge the void, how to bring her to him when he needed her most.
Shutting his eyes tightly, he flooded his head and is heart with thoughts and memories of Kensi - her laugh, her smile, her beautiful dark eyes; the gentle scent of her shampoo teasing at his nose as she lay so comfortable and unchecked in his arms; the sensual press of her lips to his - and as they grew in strength and power light poured into the darkness, pushing out the pain and banishing the fears once more. And just for a moment, before he opened his eyes, he could almost feel her there with him.
The sudden, almost desperate calling of his name by Sam and Callen brought him fully into the present and after a brief clearing of his throat Deeks answered them. Worry and concern were etched clearly upon both of the senior agents' faces as they rounded the back of the Mercedes to find the detective sitting there.
"You okay?" Sam asked gently.
"Not really," he answered looking up to meet his friend's gaze. "But I will be."
Two steps forward, one step back, that was just the way it worked sometimes. But through it all, and wherever they were, Deeks knew Kensi would always be his anchor.
The End
